Missing You (Do You Miss Me Now?)
by ican-whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa
Summary: Tegan and Sara's relationship takes an unfortunate turn when one succumbs to the influence of excess alcohol. (Quincest, twincest, incest. Don't like? Don't read. Rated M for future chapters containing smut.)
1. Threw Out Believable Yesterday

"Tegan, I -"

"What, Sara?! I let myself finally feel taken, like I was yours, and this is how you repay me?! I spent _three years_ chasing after someone that would only break my heart in the end, you sat by and mended me, and then you throw it all away because, oh, 'you were drunk'!"

The twin who spoke first stepped forward, hands replacing the tears on the other's cheek, trying to convey the desperation - the need - for understanding she felt. Tegan took a step back, her chest heaving with betrayal and anger, the tension in the air enough to suffocate her already drowned lungs. She took one last look at Sara before she slammed the bus door, storming out in a hurry after grabbing her coat. She jammed her hands in her pockets, her eyes focused on an image in the distance that shook her to her very core with a paroxysm of emotions - some she recognised, some she wished she could. There, underneath the dim lighting cast off by the streetlight, a bed was dishevelled as two bodies worked their way around the sheets, half covered and half naked to the fuming onlooker. The one she recognised due to constant exposure to curled her fingers into the sheets just below her hips, her head tilting back into the pillow as her thighs clenched with the effort of keeping back an orgasm. The one topping the aforementioned female smiled knowingly, kissing her way back down to where her fingers had just been. She licked off the remnants of a night spent fucking and Tegan lashed out at the nearest wall, her skin splitting open and bones cracking under the force applied.

She should have shouted due to the pain, but the cry she let out was the result of a broken, shattered heart crashing to the ground, into several pieces as she pictured the woman that had been pleasing her sister standing before her fist. She didn't care if her hand was probably broken; she struck out again and again, until she couldn't process anything more than what she was doing, until the world was a blur of red and white, until a hand on her shoulder whirled her around and she was suddenly face to face with the last person she wanted to see.

"Sara, I'm fucking warning you right now..." Tegan started, her bloodied hand tightening at the sight of her counterpart. The other tried to say something that would ease the situation, but Tegan's rage boiled to an irrepressible level, and she struck out, her first colliding with the jaw she once thought of as perfect. However, now that someone else had marked their territory - which had been hers since birth - she saw nothing beautiful about it. Sara stumbled back, too caught up in her own emotions to fully understand what just happened, and, before she could get back onto steady footing, she was knocked down, her shirt taken by the fistful into shaking hands.

"Why?!" Tegan screamed, jerking the body beneath her. "Why did you do it?!" She was stuck between sobbing and shrieking, her voice both low and high at the same time. She wanted to hit her sister over and over until she got the answer she searched for; she wanted to hit herself for acting so violent, but, most of all, she wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Her hands let Sara fall back to the ground, not another hit having been inflicted upon features more hurt than the physical world could show. She turned her back and kicked out at the streetlight, the metal sounding out in response to her wail of despair. Sara stood up, clearly on the precipice of daring and cowardly, her hand half-outstretched in an attempt to console her older sibling. She thought of all the masochistic, deprived people she'd seen on the streets of India previously, begging for money or solace from their trouble. She thought about the people who'd never known love back in the day, who'd been beaten, starved, robbed, and considered those fates better than her present; she thought about the animals in the wild that would harm themselves or others for the respect and acceptance of their more experienced brothers and sisters, friends and family alike, and deemed the situation similar to her own.

"Tegan, please, listen to me..." she tried, her voice quiet and pleading. The older of the pair turned back around, her hands waving about in the air as her feelings of distrust and sadness took a chance at escaping in a healthier way.

"I don't want to hear it, Sara. What don't you understand about _leave me alone_?" She growled, leaving her fellow musician to open and close her mouth several times, obviously having been caught off guard by the response. Perhaps she hadn't expected a chance at explaining herself, and maybe that wasn't the scenario she was in at all, but she took so much time in considering her options that her opportunity to do so was ripped from her grasp just like Tegan's trust and love had been when her confession had torn their relationship by the seams.

"Sara," Tegan began, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I don't want to see you right now. I don't want to hear your voice, and I don't want to hear your name. I don't want anything to do with you anymore." She finished with an involuntary shake of her limbs, fury rendering her powerless for a minute before she collected what composure she had left, and turned back to the bus. Once inside, she threw what little belongings she'd had with her that weren't shared between herself and her sister into a suitcase, zipped it up, and shoved past the figure at the doorway. Sara knew not to ask where she was going, and even if she had, Tegan wouldn't know the answer. She was going somewhere Sara wasn't, and that's all that mattered.

...

Pushing open the door to the poorest excuse for a hotel she could pay for, Tegan set her luggage down on the bed, ran her fingers through her hair, and swore. The recent turn of events left her with both an adrenaline rush and an overwhelming sense of fatigue, the contrast enough to make her want to sleep the days away. However, the activity in her mind was enough to fuel three nuclear power plants working at top production for hours, and she couldn't find it in herself to stop the chain of accusations she was thinking up.

_She wouldn't... There has to be a mistake; she wouldn't... She loves me..._

The irritation building up in her body left her muscles feeling as if she'd been working out for weeks without stopping, acid placing its unwanted mark against her tissues the same way Sara's kiss had left her imprinted for any of her future partners to see. She didn't know what she was doing, nor did she care, but she knew that she only had a few days before Sara would come looking for her, regardless of the warning not to and the harsh words exchanged thereafter.

A compilation of memories took hold of her better judgement, and her aggravation simmered down to a calamitous depression. Tegan's eyes began to water and she immediately sat back on the bed, her head in her hands as she expelled her anguish openly into her palms, honey coloured orbs darkening to an almost brown shade as the organ pumping blood cut itself off from the rest of her body to wither away in solitude, the red string tied around it that had once reinforced its strength through all her troubles being pulled so tight in her twin's attempt at reconnection that it felt as though she were cutting off her circulation, letting blood fill her lungs while the soul she had given up so wholly and absolutely was fragmented beyond repair.

Curling up into a ball and hiding under blankets that were too weak to protect her from the outside world, Tegan shut out reality and gave in to her dreams, where Sara hadn't cheated on her; the final thought in her mind before it was pulled into surreal slumber ringing out into the night.

_I was yours, right?_


	2. I Delayed A Starter

The darkness that had made two fighting figures more prominent against a dim, fading streetlamp had given way to midnight long before the weaker, more submissive of the two had retreated back to the comfort and safety of the tour bus waiting just beyond the waging war. Sara was sat in her same position on the bunk that meant nothing to her but a place to feel self-pity and coldness seeping through her from Tegan's side, mocking her with everything she'd ever done wrong, every bad name she'd called her twin, and the loneliness that accompanied the split in their bond due to her mistake. She refused to call it anything other than a drunken mishap, because that's what it was. She had been inebriated beyond the point of logical thought, lonely in a spacious house that was all too big for her preference. It wouldn't surprise her if the other participating party had been just as drunk - hell, she didn't even know if Lindsey remembered what had happened. They hadn't talked since then, and she found that she couldn't care less if the woman ever came back. She had claimed hatred and distrust towards the previous love interest her sister had chased for three years, but she supposed that that declaration had sunk the same moment guilt had consumed her so wholly and completely that her only option had been to confess.

_I really fucked up this time. I can't do anything about it; I don't know where she is..._

A sigh escaped Sara's lips as she rolled onto her back, straightening her legs and clutching the pillow to her chest with more desperation than before. She had to blink back tears as she took in the scent of Tegan's shampoo, thoughts of her sibling off somewhere alone making her heart ache against the contrasting feeling of heart-shattering guilt she couldn't shake. If anything happened to Tegan, it would indirectly be her fault, and her fault alone; Lindsey had no part in their lives anymore.

She had never meant for her twin to be hurt; she wanted to be able to say that, but she couldn't. She _had_ been drunk when Lindsey knocked on her door, whispered words she didn't want to hear, and pushed her way through the opening. She _had_ been hungover the day after when she had screamed and cried for the woman to leave and never come back, but that was what she didn't regret. She felt the most remorse for her actions that night, and, as they played against her senses more vividly than when it had happened, she started sobbing, her composure crumbling as tears started to build up in her eyes. Her body started to tremble as she tried to hold in the audible representation of her hurt, her head bowing as her knees curled to meet her ribs that only seemed capable of protecting her own heart that filled with self-hatred upon recollection of her previous decisions. She hadn't been in her right mind at all, and she wished more than anything that Tegan would give her the time to explain that; even though she considered herself inexcusable; she couldn't even call Tegan the asshole because she had no one to pin the blame on but herself.

Grief was starting to envelope her frame entirely before she found relief in the darkness that obscured her vision from the sight of Tegan's empty bunk, falling asleep to the sound of harsh wind outside the bus.

...

Sara's eyes reluctantly opened to the sight of her twin's absence and her stomach dropped. She had promised herself somewhere in the midst of being enraged and dejected that she wouldn't get her hopes up, but she still had been expecting Tegan to return in the middle of the night, or at least before she woke up. It hurt to know that she was still alone, drowning in the depths of her unfiltered emotions, unheard and more despondent than she'd ever been in her life. However, they had a tour to start soon, regardless of their personal problems, and she repeatedly reminded herself of this as she sat up. Their unresolved issues wouldn't get in the way of their career - they _couldn't_. It wouldn't be allowed. Not only would it be unprofessional of them, but it would risk their reputation in the industry and most likely give hint to their relationship, considering the fans that saw through them as if they were transparent.

Padding across the floor that was colder than usual due to her bitter mood, Sara made her way to the bathroom with clothes in hand, overlooking the ringing of her phone as soon as the tone registered in her memory as 'not Tegan's'. She finished getting dressed at her normal pace, again turning a blind eye to the device reaching out for her attention and, instead, moving to the fridge in search of a distraction. Upon finding a significant lack of comfort food or reason to bypass answering her phone, Sara resorted to the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. She knew she'd have to get a hold of Tegan if she didn't return by the start of the impending tour they would soon be embarking on, but she also knew that interrupting her sister's recovery would both only delay it and be a terrible, terrible choice to deal with when she did come back; therefore, her only option was to wait.


	3. Slowly Calming Me, Coaxing Me

Slowly allowing her gaze to focus on the unfamiliar side of the bed she had dreamt was occupied by her sister, Tegan let a groan escape her lips, lifting her head in alarm as she momentarily forgot that she'd stormed out of the bus and into a sketchy hotel room. As soon as the television across from her and the peeling wallpaper made sense, she was out of bed and moving into the bathroom, her palms tingling as the cold porcelain registered in her numbed senses. She hadn't been drinking and she hadn't taken anything. She knew the sluggish state she was in could only be blamed on a night spent drowning in depression, relishing in the naivete of her dreams and the pull back into reality when she'd opened her eyes. However, she wasn't ready to come to terms with the real world, so she turned back to the bed and crawled under the sandpaper excuses for sheets, pulling them over her head and whining as her phone rang out into the early morning air. She turned on her side and squinted at the screen, mouthing a single word before her groggy voice let out another sound of annoyance, her finger tapping the 'decline' option before she rolled onto her stomach and slipped her arms under the pillow, her head resting on the cardboard-like cushioner.

She spent more than twenty minutes with her eyes closed, watching images of her sister fade and renew, their timeline starting over as she witnessed, in vivid detail, the smiles, tears, gut-wrenching sobs, and delighted squeals accompanied with the features to match until she couldn't anymore, and pushed her weight off of the weakened mattress visited by countless others, positioning herself at the bottom of the bed with her head in her hands, too afraid to shut her eyes again. Her head was swimming with two raging sides of a losing battle - anger and sadness, denial and the sting of a neglected, wounded heart. She knew that she wasn't ready to face the consequences of returning to the inescapable close quarters that came with sharing a tour bus with her band mate, but the fact that she would eventually have to go back was relentlessly nagging at her, pushing at the boundaries of her mind, forcing its way into the circle of anxiety that overwhelmed her to the point of distressed tears.

Tegan's hands grew clammy with apprehension, her stomach tightening into knots of panic and insecurity while her brain argued with the sensation, combatting the vulnerability with a self-justified point of the finger towards Sara, who wasn't there to defend herself. She didn't care if it was childish of her to figuratively stick out her tongue and run with her tail between her legs, she felt as if it were reasonable. It was her right to do whatever she wanted for as long as she was grieving - that's what this was. She was losing the woman she grew up with, learnt from, and led through the harshness life presented them with, she had been the proud bystander of a young girl beautifully developing into a confident, worthy young woman, she had been the first to envelope Sara in her arms and spin her through the air upon the announcement of their victory in the Garage Warz contest that had been the catalyst to their whole career together, and what was all that now?

She could remember the times when things were much simpler and their love hadn't been an object of consideration. She could remember waking her twin in the middle of the night, requesting an escort through the darkness in a hushed tone. She could remember when a momentous interview meant sitting under the protection of a white tent in capris and sleeveless shirts with only one microphone.

The sudden rush of nostalgia was like a punch to the gut as things were, and Tegan couldn't fight the want of an easier period as she contemplated her next move, though the effort was quickly interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She pulled the device from her pocket, checking the contact picture before accepting the call.

"Sara."


	4. You're My Daydream

The pulsating of her bottom lip had long since dwindled to nothing as the pressure applied by her clenched jaw forced her teeth deeper into the fragile flesh, interrupting the blood flow for so long that, upon release, the return of necessary circulation was a tangible relief. The characters in the book resting in her lap had taken to the activities that herself and Tegan had been secretly engaging in behind closed doors, the anxiety driving her hand into her hair, tangled, trapped, nails digging into her skull as the renewal of their previous risky behaviour came back from the depths in which she'd buried them to slap her in the face. Sara hadn't contacted Tegan all day due to the distraction provided by her favourite pastime; she'd taken to reading The Hotel New Hampshire in hopes of forgetting her temporary worries, leaving them behind in the pages of a book that ironically resurrected them with a flourish. She freed her hand from brunette strands, closing the book and rising from the couch she'd been perched on the edge of as if to manifest the precipice she was constantly standing on in reality, the war that never ended between her heart and her head.

Her patience had been wearing thin from the second her sister had stormed out of the bus and it only continued to wear away as time went on. She had nothing else to derail her attention from the phone that had sat untouched and silent since morning, the sense of urgency that accompanied her lack of knowledge on Tegan's whereabouts begging her to cross the room and press 'call'. However, she knew that neither of them would be able to handle the talk, so she rerouted her path to the booth and took to resting her head on her arms, closing her eyes in attempts of shutting out the world for a few more minutes.

...

_Tegan's sleeping form had been oblivious to the coming storm for as long as it had apprehended her insomniatic twin's consciousness, the fear of the first lightning bolt rendering her motionless against sheets that were too close for comfort, trapping her in an asphyxiating heat that filled her with paralysing anxiety. She wanted her sister to wake up and see just how terrified she was, but she knew it would only end in relentless teasing the next day, so she kept quiet and allowed the sound of distant thunder to provoke heart palpitations. The sound of rain pitter-pattering against their window resembled the monster tearing through the insides of human victims in the horror movie more than the calming lullaby her sister had fallen asleep to. Sara didn't know how her sibling could manage dreaming when the images of brutal mutilation from what she'd been forced to sit through were still fresh in her own mind, morphing the leaves outside into a grisly murderer's smile, anticipating curling his gruesome fingers around her throat, ripping her from the sanctity of her room and into his torture chamber._

_Her breath caught in her throat as a bolt of lightning threw one sleeping frame and a terrified set of wide eyes into a luminescent brightness, exposing her line of sight aimed at the window to the arms of electrical discharge igniting the sky. She let out a whimper of fear, instinctively reaching for Tegan's hand as she pulled herself in close and curled up against her side. The movement was blatant and she didn't care that Tegan noticed, squeezing her hand in the darkness and mumbling an 'it'll be okay, Sar.'_

_In response to the softly spoken reassurance, Sara's hand loosened from its death grip on Tegan's, the butterflies in her stomach replacing the crippling alarm that had previously held her heart so tightly._

...

The sound of the bus door opening shook Sara from her dream, her head immediately lifting as she stepped out of the booth, whirling to watch the person who entered. Her breathing turned shallow, her palms taking on the clammy feeling she always got before things went downhill.

"L-Lindsey?" She croaked, her throat too dry to supply her with the confidence she wished she had. The woman before her - her sister's heartbreaker - took a step forward, hand outstretched as if to move her out of the way.

"We need to talk."


	5. Does It Make You Homesick For Me?

Tegan's body seemed to resurrect from the dead as she slowly made her way about the hotel room that had become her temporary means of escape, fingers curling around the material of strewn-about shirts and pants, eyes charting every move she made before time she didn't have to waste ran out and she was zipping up the suitcase that wasn't even half full. She had fought back venom-filled outbursts upon the acceptance of her twin's call and agreed to come back to the bus, though she didn't have much choice now that her minimal clothing supply had run out.

Taking a step outside the personal tomb she'd managed to bury herself in, Tegan glowered at the sunshine that mocked the reality of the cold, harsh world. It seemed impossible to her how the world could go on, exist while she was so depressed, full of loathing for the entirety of humankind, including herself. She wanted to be able to laugh and go on walks and enjoy the rare weather that she hardly had the time to when on tour, but all she could think about was her cheating sister and the words they'd exchanged, all running throughout her mind like wildfire, consuming everything she was and thrusting her into the past where they didn't exist. It wasn't healthy, but she didn't care. She was closing herself into a cave of nostalgia, replacing people's faces with the memories that registered upon assessing them closer, even something as simple as a laugh, a head thrown to the side in innocent merriment caused her stomach to drop and a feeling of deep shame to encompass her whole being, snapping her back to reality as she reeled back in confusion, her eyes moving back and forth between the couples as she made her way back to the bus she didn't want to pack onto. There was a sick addiction to forcing herself to take in the scenes unfolding before her as she wove through crowds of lovesick teenagers and grown couples alike, the sights of new love all around provoking a nasty form of jealousy and hatred within the heart she now had under lock and key.

"Justine," The sound of gasps and drawls of empathy forced their way through her submerged train of thought, forcing her to turn, out of curiosity alone, and take in the moment that would most likely be more significant in their timeline than her own. She briefly thought back on when she was in love and in a relationship, laughing at the contrast between then and now, and how the display of affection before her would have made her coo right along with the crowd as she pulled her previous partner's hand closer to her side, pointing out the genuine picture-perfect proposal without a second thought, and how she was so very different now, burning holes into the back of the man's head as he clasped his sweetheart's hand between his own, repeating her name once more as if she hadn't heard him, when in reality he had complete control over all of her attention.

"Justine," he continued, eyes glistening with the same emotion that caused Tegan to cringe, pulling her back to all the instants in which she believed she had had the same fate in store for her before it all came crumbling down. She continued to watch, however; something within the depths of her chest compelling her to stay, the part of her that had been a self-diagnosed past addict, pining for the days she had lost love, the part of her that thought incessantly about love, and the masochistic part of her that grieved over love she'd never have all screaming at her to stay rooted in the spot she wished she could turn tail and dash from.

"I have loved you since the day we met, and I knew, I felt somewhere within me, within a door that wasn't opened yet, that we would be here, and I promised myself that I would make you the happiest woman in the world, that I would protect you... from anything and everything that made you cling tighter to me when you're scared. I felt you in my heart, before we even met, before I even knew you; I could feel you reaching out for me when I was at my lowest, when I wanted to leave it all behind..." The man's voice broke in unison with the woman's, her hands tightening in his hold. He seemed to take a breath to steady his resolve before continuing.

"You didn't want me to give up, even then, when you hadn't known me. I can't imagine a day without you now, and I look back to then and I think, 'how on Earth did I ever go without you?' and I know, somewhere, even now, when I'm not too sure, that I'll find the answer, because you're still right here, and you're still reaching out for me, and you always will, especially when I feel like breaking down. Justine, I need you more than the ocean needs its tide. You carry me to a better place, to a better me, and I'm asking you now, as the love of my life and the embodiment of my own personal red string of fate," pausing, the gentleman got down on one knee and retracted his hands from his fiancee's, pulling out a box with a beautiful, blue ring.

"Will you marry me?" He smiled, waiting for the momentum of his words to sink in, his girlfriend's head nodding as tears marked this day for ever into her memory, streaming down her face as she leant forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face into his neck as he lifted her up and twirled her around, the dress she was wearing flowing with the movement. Tegan could only think of how this stranger's wedding gown would look when the same action was repeated on a day that would be the last of their lives as a couple and their first as newlyweds, the first stage of such austere happiness opening the double doors for them as they honeymooned somewhere far away from her reality.

Although this was a very touching, emotional scene, Tegan managed to ruin it for herself with her own inappreciative sulkiness, pulling her body from the crowd and turning away to allow the just engaged their personal space, free from her bad attitude. She didn't want to risk the chance of being swept into another heart wrenching episode that would only be ruined by her individual suffering, so she continued on her path to where she thought the bus would be, begging whatever being hiding beyond the clouds for any means of distraction to knock her and her memory down, hopefully leaving her in an impact-induced state in which she wouldn't be able to remember where she was going or why she had to be there in the first place.

Her trek was slow but steady as she eventually made her way to the death-trap she would soon be calling home for the majority of her year, her mind hell bent on avoiding her sister at all costs until she could muster up the strength to look back on the scene that had just passed that would perhaps restore her faith in love and help her to forgive her twin for breaking her heart. She kept her eyes down as she reached out for the door handle, her ears pricking at the sound of two very familiar voices.

"No, Sara, I don't want to!"

"Please, Lindsey, _you don't understand_!"

There was a pause, in which Tegan could sense the tension and extreme urgency of an undecided matter being pressured into oblivion, and she could swear that the feeling of second-hand anxiety was half the reason she didn't rip the door right off its hinges and barge in.

"You know she won't believe me, Lindsey, _please_!"

Tegan's face took on the countenance of a poor soul stuck between the naivete of a second chance and the disbelief of someone who should have known better. She struggled to breathe as she fumbled with her suitcase before throwing it down altogether, tears stinging her tired eyes. She pulled the door back and stepped inside, the calmness of her actions far more frightening than being caught in the act.

"I want to know," she began, the low tone of her voice playing perfectly against the quiet the other two had left in their wake, "what is going on." She finished with a choked back sob, the vulnerability proving her previous irritation null and void. She started to cry once more, the renewal of tears causing the dam to break open.

"What the fuck!" She shouted, her fists curling tighter against her eyes as the stress finally broke her walls, blurred lines distinguishing Lindsey's frame from Sara's. "What the fuck is going on!"


	6. I'm Still Missing You

The bus had already taken on enough of a suffocating atmosphere previous to Lindsey's arrival, and as Sara took another step back in attempts at disconnecting the static, poisonous energy between herself and her unwelcome guest, she had to grit her teeth to keep from spewing forth every blame she could pin on anyone but herself.

She took a deep breath in through her nose then exhaled through her mouth, warily eyeing the door as if she expected someone to rush in and drag the enraged woman away. "No, you need to leave." She spoke clearly and kept her back straight to reinforce her confidence, trying to convey that she wouldn't be derailed from her pushy suggestion, but Lindsey managed to bypass all the details of being unwanted and shrugged past her, ignoring the body language that screamed 'get out' and seating herself in the booth she'd previously been sleeping in.

"Great, a living nightmare," Sara slid in across from Lindsey, keeping her voice low enough not to be heard until she was convinced the other was ready to be civil. The space between the pair seemed like another dimension, too thick to allow oxygen but light enough to catch fire under the dagger-filled stare both were giving off.

"All right," Sara started, slowly shifting her gaze to the outside, this time taking in the weather that mocked her current situation instead of searching for a familiar frame to alleviate her worries. She'd tapered off long before Lindsey had gotten the hint, uncomfortably shifting against the seat

as she fell into the silence that she couldn't wage war against. She wanted this moment to be over, but more than that, she wanted Lindsey to leave and never come back this time.

Her anger returned as she remembered their morning after talk, her eyes flashing back to meet Lindsey's surprised ones looking back at her as if she were shocked that she'd turned around.

"What the fuck ever happened to going our separate ways?!" She demanded, leaning forward as she attempted to take back control. Lindsey looked as if she planned on spitting out a cocky reply, and in return, Sara's hand flew out to cup over her mouth. "No, I didn't say I wanted a bullshit excuse for you being here - you swore you wouldn't!" Sara was barely suppressing her want to snap Lindsey's neck right then and there, her anger at herself leaking out in the least healthy way. How could she have been so stupid as to believe in a promise? She wasn't a four year-old child anymore, she shouldn't have trusted in spoken word without a contract or some form of physical proof. Her jaw snapped shut from its slack position upon the realisation that she'd literally been fucked over, her teeth grinding against their counterparts as she stood up, towering over Lindsey.

"You're going to explain what happened to Tegan." She said, narrowing her eyes at the facial expression the other woman gave in response.

"Like hell, I am!" She spat back, shooting up to be the same height as her opposer, "it wasn't just my mistake!"

"So what?! Because of you, she won't even talk to me!" Sara's voice pitched down from the near shriek it'd reached as her fury dissipated into a pathetic, desperate begging. Her relationship with her sister had been demolished over a stupid mistake that needed to be brought to justice as the drunken mishap it really was; she didn't care if it cost her her pride.

"No, Sara, I don't want to!" Lindsey slammed her hands on the table, her eyes flashing with determination she deemed completely reasonable.

Sara could have sworn that Lindsey was the reincarnation of the devil himself as sunlight finally broke through the barrier of cloud that had thrown shade over the bus, relieving them from the harsh heat and hiding them under shade, and illuminated strawberry red hair into a flame that resembled Hell's fire.

"Please, Lindsey, _you don't understand_!" She tried again, struggling to keep the whine out of her voice. "You know she won't believe me, Lindsey, _please_!"

There was a sound outside that briefly registered with both Sara and Lindsey, but before the latter could say anything, Tegan stumbled through the door, eyes shiny and visibly upset.

Sara stood shocked still, her stomach dropped faster than she could process the fear crippling her and stopping the blood in her veins, the feeling that she wanted to puke resurfacing with more momentum than if a train had hit her. "T-Tegan?" She stuttered, looking from Lindsey to her twin as if they had been in a fight she had walked in on. She'd only seen Tegan this vulnerable once before, at the hands of the only other person in the bus. What did that make her now? Someone just as bad as Lindsey? Even worse? Did such a stupid, thoughtless mistake make her more of a criminal, more despicable than the woman Tegan had spent three years of her life on, cried and tortured herself over? Could she really be so much at fault for something she hadn't even initiated?

"I don't - what the fuck were you just asking?!" Tegan's eyes were locked on Sara. Her gaze was unwavering, filled with hurt, deceit, and just the tiniest flicker of doubt, a want to have misunderstood that Sara immediately grasped at.

"She... She wouldn't leave and I asked her to tell you what happened... but she wouldn't agree."

"Like I don't already know!"

"Because you don't! You're only listening to as much as you have and then you blame me and block me out! Honestly, Tegan, how do you expect me to tell you the truth if you won't even open your ears?!"

"I'm not listening?" Tegan huffed, "I think I've heard more than enough, thanks!"

"See! You're doing it again! You think you know what's going on and now you want to pack up and run away to pout again!"

"I wouldn't fucking have this problem if you hadn't slept around, and right when I come back to try and listen, here you are doing it again! How many fucking times can I pack before I leave for good, eh?"

The two siblings glared at the other with balled fists and strained jaws, each presenting their last hopes at making up and flailing in deep waters as their final resorts failed them. They had nothing else to lose and nothing else to fight for, and their battle was at its climax with the problem and only possible solution just feet away. Tegan and Sara's heads snapped back to Lindsey, their mouths opening as they both said in unison:

"Leave."


	7. Well, I Guess That I

The twins had spent the remainder of their day on separate ends of the bus, Tegan in her bunk trying to sort out her emotions and Sara switching her attention from her book to her phone. It was inevitable that their mother would question the sturdier of the two incessantly until she was satisfied with the answer, but at this point, Sara didn't know if she would ever get one. They would be touring together for the better half of the year and the close proximity in which they would be forced into certainly wouldn't help Tegan in any way, even if Sara obliged to petty rules and unnecessary mood swings; in fact, she was almost one-hundred percent sure that Tegan would push herself into predicaments that would only encourage her asperity just to spite her. They had only talked once or twice in passing, and as brief as it was, it caused Sara to wince and shrink away, perhaps out of hearing the blatant pain and suffering in her twin's voice that she had vowed to herself never to be the cause of, or perhaps it was the look in her sibling's eye, so blank and unseeing although she had been pretending to read, but whatever the reason behind the undiluted expression of such devastating hurt, it had Sara feeling the impact of what she'd done. She could barely focus on the book in her lap with the thought of her sister moping on the other end of the bus. She knew the distance was crucial if she ever hoped to see her twin up and running again, or if she ever hoped to get her side of the story in, but how much space could their tiny tour bus provide? There was no intimacy behind numbing their headaches with glasses of scotch as they sat cross-legged on the couch beside their miniature fridge, nor was their any substantial comfort in knowing that if one decided to cave in and cry, the other would be right beside them doing the same; there was only the shattering silence that made Sara's ears ring to the point of throwing her book halfway across the bus. She could hear Tegan sniffling and briefly wondered if she was crying or had simply succumbed to the whim of allergy season, but the thought that it could be the latter was thrown out the window as soon as she noticed that her sibling was no longer standing outside her bunk with dirty clothes in hand.

'Of course I'm the reason.' Dusting off her thighs as she stood up and crossed the bus, Sara paused at the door to look over her shoulder at Tegan's bunk, though the attempt was soon lost, for the curtain had been closed. The scene brought back memories of Tegan's first serious relationship and the breakup that had followed, how she had held her twin, rocked her to sleep and murmured promises that she wasn't sure she could keep at the time. The image of Tegan so broken, tears streaming down her face as she whispered the same name over and over again with shaking hands as she sought out the cure for her heartache, or the weight that would sink them both, was forever seared into her mind as the one crime she must never commit. She was growing suffocated by the depression threatening to throw her into an asthma attack with each passing second, the very thought enough to make her stumble as she clutched the handle of the door and stepped out into air that was free of the brewing quarrel she was bound to step back into. Taking a seat on the concrete with her back against the cool metal of the vehicle that had whisked their lives into an unrecognisable blur of faces and places, Sara pulled out her phone and scanned through old messages, stopping at the ones that were most important to her. The screen of her Blackberry blurred, a single droplet marring the words that had once patched up the worst of her days. She choked back a sob, running over the last line until a buzz had her scrambling to press 'accept'.

"Hello?" The thickness in her voice immediately gave her away, though she clung to the little ribbon of hope that perhaps the contact she hadn't thought to check before accepting the call would think she were drunk.

"Sara? What's wrong? Are you and Tegan fighting again? Do I need to call a family meeting?" Sonia's timeless worrying finally pulled a groan from the depths of Sara's soul to the front, though it was easily deciphered as a whine. How could she hide from the one woman that had grown up learning the very tricks they still used in the present?

"No, mom, I..." she laughed, her voice breaking, "I was thinking about how sad Tegan would be if I quit the band."

"Sara, for God's sake, you can't quit the band! What will Tegan do?" Sonia's exclamation was met with a stifled sob, Sara's free hand moving to cover her eyes. "I don't know. I don't know what she'd do without me."

"Honey..." The voice on the other end of their call softened to a degree that only mothers could attain in the moments where their child is in deep pain, the tone as comforting as if she were back home, wrapped up in her favourite blanket while nursing a cup of coffee. She wiped at her eyes furiously, shaking her head to clear the stuffiness that had taken root there with a defensive, "I'm fine."

"I think you should come home, take a break from touring and catch up with family." The idea was laughable at the least. They could barely keep from ripping each other apart even considering the dysfunctionality of their relationship, what would keep them from continuing down that road at home?

Sara scoffed through her sniffling, "I don't think so."

"Well, I do. You're coming home to talk this out. I don't want another angst-filled album." She hadn't thought of that, had she? While Tegan was suffering inside the bus, there was an entirely new selection of undeniable accusations to make songs out of waiting just outside the curtains of despair.

"All right, I'll try to drag Tegan over..." Sara quickly said her goodbyes and pushed her phone back into her pocket as she stood, dusting off the bits of concrete from the seat of her pants. She made her way back into the bus, where she curled up under the blankets that had become foreign to her during the time she spent wrapped in Tegan's arms, cradled in their personal shelter from the outside world.

_Why do I take this lonely road, nobody here to walk with me?_


	8. I Guess That I Have Never Really Had You

Tegan couldn't begin to fathom the nerve her sister had somehow accumulated overnight. Between the disastrous scenarios that painted out their innermost irritation and the silence that soon followed after, she didn't know where or how Sara got the idea that they were at all stable enough to handle a trip back home with the promise of nonstop interrogation. Their relationship had never been normal. They always had to be in competition with one and other, even when it came to sex. Instead of sentimental moments of forgiveness or cute talks, they had debates on who deserved the most pity and who had been through more to get an apology. In the end, they always wound up one on top of the other - literally. In such predicaments, it was the toss of the coin that determined who would behave the most selfishly, taking a step back to allow the other the reigns of their own downward spiral. Who had initiated this to begin with? Who had stepped up first? It seemed so long ago that Tegan couldn't remember; it was almost as if she didn't want to for fear that it might have been herself.

The forward lurch of the bus ripped them from their varying methods of denial as Tegan cursed and stood to follow the cologne that fell from her grip, Sara attempting to ease some of the burden on her older twin's shoulders as she leant down with the same intention. Avoiding an awkward brush of the hand that would only further the distance between them despite her initial anger with Sara, Tegan straightened and pulled back her shoulders, taking the cologne back to her suitcase. They both made as if they were back to their previous routine, but Tegan had a rock in her chest that refused to dissipate the heaviness that was choking all the life from her, and Sara struggled with the efforts of not comforting her the only way she knew how, the only way she'd been brought up to comfort someone in pain: through physical contact that was more than taboo at this point. The next hour and a half of their travelling brought on a silent game of don't ask, don't tell as one twin moved about the bus, the other carefully avoiding their body and eyes as the tension only grew more toxic with each passing second. Tegan was tired of having to watch her every movement, Sara was irritated with the fact that she had to purposely dodge her twin when, just a few days ago, they had been the other's only source of consolation.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Tegan muttered, the book propped up against her knees as she lay back in her bunk falling between the gap that came with each bump in the road. She was sick of the bus already, the inner turmoil inside of her brewing as she watched Sara ignore her. How long could they go without talking about what happened? How long would it be until their band was broken up over a silly mistake? Tegan wanted to have the decency to consider her sister's point of view - oh, how she wished she could understand the war that was no doubt raging behind fragile, pale skin - but all she could feel was the bitterness that accompanied the sting of betrayal and the loss of a bond that should have never been established in the first place. The risks they'd taken, the stares they'd gotten and the anxiety that had plagued them for so long apparently meant nothing to Sara, who had easily succumbed to the lull of alcohol when presented with even the slightest bit of attractiveness. As an adult, Tegan was as close to being curled up in a ball as she could get without losing her pride and dignity, hunched over her book as she bit on her lip to keep from thinking aloud. Sara had noticed the edginess and retreated further back into the bus, resorting to resting against the window as Tegan kept the bunk area hostage in her trial and error means of coping. The youngest of the two had found no relief in her dreams, as they consisted of nothing but her teary-eyed twin accusing her of all the things she hadn't yet, or even worse, more of the silence that she could barely withstand as it was, and she doubted Tegan had either, for she could often hear the muted sniffling from behind closed curtains in the middle of the night, presumably result of a different nightmare that was present even in her waking hours. Sara felt more alone than she ever had without Tegan's shoulder to cry on. Her rock was replaced with empty space and she was left to cradle her own injured heart in weak hands as she looked in on the trainwreck waiting to happen, knowing it was her fault. Tegan was often not expected to be the one pinned with the heavy responsibility that comes with restraining a possible burden to others, as Sara was often more vocal about such worries, but now that they were falling to their endless demise just for the sake of fuelling their insatiable curiosity, she felt the promise of onslaught. Perhaps they hadn't been careful enough when this slippery slope downwards had started or perhaps Tegan had been too jaded by her first love, but in any case, they had been naive teenagers - even in their most paranoid states - who thought they could best one of time's oldest, wisest relatives. Who did they think they were, exactly?

The thickness that had settled between the two upon Tegan's return to the bus seemed to melt away as the blurs of green outside became more recognisable, the easy nostalgia of childhood washing away their pain with the droplets that started to sprinkle their windows. Tegan stood with her hands on her lower back, stretching out her tired limbs with a yawn, and, when the bus finally stopped moving, she picked up her suitcase, eager to leave the pessimistic energy behind in hopes of rebuilding herself. Sara had grown quiet and Tegan made no implication as to whether or not she wanted to find out why, a single glance over her shoulder solidifying the growing idea in her counterpart's mind that she truly was the burden she thought herself to be. Sara waited until Tegan was halfway to the door before she stood and made her way to her bunk with shaking hands, her eyes focused on her feet as she stepped around her sibling. How could she let it get to this?

...

_As she had spent the majority of her day cooking, the small hope that her hair would remain untainted by the various ingredients she required to compile Tegan's favourite dishes continued to diminish as time went on. The two furry creatures curled up against each other for warmth on her sofa roused now and then due to the constant commotion she provided, most likely penetrating their dreams with words their small, innocent ears had never heard before, or with tones that would make even a Rottweiler turn away. Sara's elocutionist disposition proved to be a gift with each winning debate she found herself in, but the curse of being so easily charismatic lay in the fact that, the more she used her talent, the more people got used to her strategies and evasive tactics, not including the constant eroding affect her dependence held over such a familiar fall-back. Instead of assembling a varying set of witticisms that would blow her twin away, Sara was instead accumulating all of her efforts normally reserved for their arguments and applying it towards the many dishes she had made and had yet to make, for, when in love, she was easily distinguished as the one to never forgive herself; unless appropriately hurt in return._

_Finally administering the last spice imperative to the recipe, Sara ripped the apron surrounding and protecting her chest and waist area from her torso, then threw it in the hamper that had yet to be appropriately placed within the walls of her first home. She turned on her heel and clapped her hands together several times to clear them of the flour and various other additives that had since caked themselves into the lines of her palms since the beginning of it all, and carefully crouched in front of the kittens, extending one hand that was halted by Ptosis Kitten's playful pawing, at which she laughed, then, redirecting her attention to the other small cat that resumed ignoring her existence and lack of treats, resumed to scoop the pair into her arms, setting them down in front of the door, but far away enough to ensure their safety. With Tegan's arrival, she pushed her weight off the wall she'd been leaning on, picked up and placed Ptosis Kitten in her sibling's arms, and proceeded to wiggle her way in-between the two somehow, wrapping her own arms around the pale neck her lips barely brushed against as she whispered a heartfelt "I missed you," before familiarising herself with the scent she'd been deprived of for so long._

...

"Tegan, would you wake your sister? We're almost to the house and I'll be damned if she thinks she's going to make her mother carry her things for her at her age." Sonia broke the uncomfortable silence that had been sinking the car, Sara stirring from her dream to hastily wipe the tears from her eyes. She started up, gripping her suitcase and shaking her head. "No, it's all right, Mum," she started, fighting to keep the shakiness her hands had adopted from reaching her voice, "I'm up."

Tegan watched Sara carefully before slipping her hand between the spaces of her sibling's in attempts of offering her the only form of comfort she could cope with giving before Sara jerked away, either oblivious or uncaring towards the amount of pain she caused as result. Bruce cleared his throat to break the immediate tension that sprouted thereafter, signalling that the car had been successfully parked and it was time to get out. Tegan was the first to leave, huffing as Sonia led her to the house with keys in hand, her bags by her feet as she paused to unlock the door and Bruce following behind once it was ensured that Sara could handle carrying her things without stumbling from the effects of a deep sleep, though it wasn't her physical stability that was erring on the edge. She was emotionally exhausted, at her wit's end, the dream that had come to her in the last thirty minutes of their drive had done nothing to melt the anxiety crippling her every breath.

Their relationship was a push-and-pull, back-and-forth game until fatigue won over, or one of the pair decided to give the other a good head-start shove. A compromise between these disputes was only in the calm before the storm, which would be interrupted with the slightest step out of line. This type of conflict manoeuvre, much like their new album, which consisted of songs that retaliated heavy blows only able to be conveyed through music, most likely didn't seem fitting for two women of their age. The perfect torture that the process of recording a new album provided, in Sara's eyes, was repeating her mistakes in lyric form, not even given the mercy of being in front of a crowd, but the audience being reduced to the suspect and the victim, and, having spent over a year being forced into repeating herself, she came to know her role very well.

The truth of the matter held strong with the fact that, when she had left their home at twenty-two, she had pushed her twin away and closed herself off, the recent impact of guilt rendering her unable to even speak her sister's name without complications, for fear of coming to terms with the consequences of her actions. The woman in question, however hard she may have tried to push her away with one hand and pull with the other, had continued to pursue her, for the absent-minded sort of behaviour Sara had adopted at the time was quickly recognised as reaction—not unlike an instinct—towards breaking her own heart.

Completely convinced that she didn't deserve the attention she so craved, her mind reversed herself as she backpedalled to be standing in the doorway of Tegan's room, and, without her assent, her eyes left the neutral staring ground they'd stumbled upon and settled for drinking in her sister's apparel as if this would be the last time she'd be seen, and her hands gripped at the sleeves of her jacket. Thoughtlessly, her head inclined forward until their lips were mere centimetres apart, the only thing jarring her from her current train of thought and future actions being the thudding of her overwhelmed, shaken heart. She let out a breath before mentally nodding to herself in regards to her own rule created so long ago that it was better off forgotten, and moved away from Tegan. "My mistake." A depressing, hurt air surrounded both her physical frame and her short sentence as she redirected her gaze to the floor, reminding herself that if she wanted her band mate to even consider staying, she had to allow her comfortable space alone, meaning she couldn't crowd her. "I know." She added, expecting an onslaught of accusations and a ready speech with the perfect accentuation on the support, enough to make her own charismatic allure look trivial.

Turning to the door, Sara opened her mouth, flinching back at the cold stare she was presented with before quickly releasing the words that had been cause for her unusual silence.

"You know, our first kiss was alcohol-induced." She whispered, turning to leave before she could be accused of anything more, for she was sure that her small heart wouldn't be able to take the words that she expected from her twin, or the songs that would soon follow.

Tegan rushed past her carbon copy and into the bathroom of their old home, fighting not to release her anger in the way her knuckles were begging her to, although still bruised and cracked from her last rampage. She instead turned to the sink and splashed water on her face, pulled off the jeans that were suffocating her heated body and rid herself of her shirt, turning on the shower to the coldest temperature in hopes of absorbing some of the chill and calming herself to a more appropriate level.

...

"Tegan, please come out!" Sara had grown restless; it had been five minutes since her twin had disappeared in a frenzy of violent animosity and she was starting to worry that she'd finally pushed Tegan over the edge and into an irreparable form of herself, a mere shell of the glowing, vibrant woman she had grown to love over the years. She wrung her hands until they were red and stinging, turning to Sonia, who had joined Bruce by the door, and asked for the key to the bathroom, unprepared for what lay beyond. Tegan was unconscious, laying on her back with fluttering eyelids and a horrible murmur of unintelligible words leaving her lips.

Sara's frantic state provoked morbid thoughts that cancelled out upon the recognition of unbridled horror in Sonia's eyes, her own lashes adopting a layer of mist as they called emergency transportation. Bruce stood over her sister's unresponsive, nearly limp body, calling her name in hopes of rousing her from her catatonic condition. The sound of Tegan's sporadic, gurgling breaths was still ringing deeply in her ears even after she watched the ambulance pull away with Sonia by her eldest daughter's side. Her nerves were misfiring within the confines of her pale skin and she felt as though the very air in her lungs had been sucked out, ineffectually handed over to her sibling. She felt belittled, made out to be the equivalent of a child when she received a text ordering her to stay home with Bruce, and, with the relentless thought that she was useless and inadequate in situations of crisis, she threw her phone down, tears leaving significant trails down her cheeks as she openly sobbed. She could feel her breaths becoming shallower as time went on and her crying continued, her lungs constricting too fast for proper inhales of oxygen. She knew that she would need her puffer soon but her feet stayed rooted to the spot, fear gripping her completely, enveloping her entire capability of movement and pulling her under. Her head was swimming at the inescapable thought of being alone, disconnected from her other half for the rest of her life and she struggled to fight against the black spots in her blurred vision, knowing that she would be of even less help if she fainted.

"I'm going," Sara said, turning to Bruce with an open palm, snatching the keys from between his fingers and rushing to his car, slamming the door shut, and stomping on the gas once the engine finally turned.


End file.
